


Why have we never...?

by silvertonedwords (emily31594)



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: F/M, post-CoG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23395855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emily31594/pseuds/silvertonedwords
Summary: "Sorry, what did you want to ask?”“I. Just—would you—like to join me in the sitting room? I have some field notes I’d been meaning to sort out.”“Sure.” She kisses the little niffler and sets him gently on Newt’s desk. Merlin’s beard, why can’t he just say it.Would you stay? In London?With me?
Relationships: Tina Goldstein/Newt Scamander
Comments: 16
Kudos: 119





	Why have we never...?

“Oh. Tina.” Newt glances up from a half-built frame for Alasdair’s damaged wing. She’s earlier than he thought she’d be. Unless he’s been down here for—he glances at the clock. Ah, yes, nearly nine already.

“Hi.” Tina scratches the niffler’s head in greeting as she steps further into the menagerie.

He’s not so bad at following Tina’s expressions, now. Some of them, anyway. This particular press of her lips and the tiredness pulling at her eyes suggests it wasn’t a successful evening.

“No luck today?”

Tina groans as she drops her workbag to the ground. A smile flutters over her face as one of the now not-quite-baby nifflers paws at her ankle. She lifts him onto her chest, the tense lines of her body softening a little. “You had a good day, hm?” she asks the creature.

“Depends who you’re asking. They got into the silver cabinet around three, and it took me nearly an hour to get everything back.”

Tina laughs lightly, then sighs. “Our source was either lying to us or didn’t know half so much as he thought. Theseus didn’t take it well.”

Newt shakes his head. “No, I would imagine not.”

Their gazes snag, and Newt could swear that his heart tries to fill the silence with extra pulses.

“Would you—“

“I wanted to tell you—“

They stop, smiling hesitantly at each other, and Tina presses on. “I’m gonna look through the no-Maj European newspapers again tonight. See if anything’s been reported. Sorry, what did you want to ask?”

“I. Just—would you—like to join me in the sitting room? I've got some field notes I’d been meaning to sort out.”

“Sure.” She kisses the little niffler and sets him gently on Newt’s desk. Her hand brushes his on her way to the door.

Merlin, how is that possible. The jolt that runs through him when she touches him, even in the simplest of ways.

Merlin’s beard, why can’t he just _say it._

_Would you stay? In London?_

_With me?_

Tina’s already settled on the sofa when he enters, a newspaper spread over her crossed legs. Several others hover around her, their pages flipping back and forth as though bespelled to search for something. But unlike other days, the one spread across her lap is not _The Daily Prophet._ In fact, it doesn’t look to be in English at all. “You read German.”

Tina looks up as he sits on the cushions beside her with his quill and a bundle of notes from his trip to Wales.

“Just a little. Poppa was German. His family anyway. He was…do you call it the same here? His father was a No-Maj.”

“Half blood.”

“Yes.”

A second newspaper slides from her lap and he catches it reflexively, their hands brushing.

“Thank you.”

Newt doesn’t take his hand away. Instead, his fingers brush lightly over hers.

She lets out a shaky breath.

“Tina, could I…” he shakes his head, “that is…”

She leans closer, tilting her head, her eyes warm and kind. She always listens so carefully to him.

Their fingers tangle together. “Could I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why have we never—why haven’t we…?”

Her fingers press into his palm.

He stares at her, leaning closer, then glances away. This near, her breath washes over his skin, and his hands itch to touch her.

“What I’m trying to say is—I—Merlin’s beard I can’t ever seem to—“

Her fingers touch his chin, lifting his face. He stares into her dark, glassy eyes.

She kisses him.

“Oh,” he manages, fingers clenching at his side. Her hand is still on his chin. She has long fingers. Strong, and delicate. His eyes flutter shut. Possibly he will stay here for a while. Give his body a chance to remember how to breathe again.

“Newt,” she whispers.

His eyes fly open. She looks…hesitant. Well, that’s not right. He lifts a hand to her caress hers, his eyes following his touch, then runs his knuckles across her cheek. Her dark eyes, when his gaze returns to them, are wide open and bright.

This time, he is the one to cover her lips with his. He feels her gasp, then relax into it, her fingers pressing into his jaw, his pulse thudding beneath her touch. His palm at the base of her neck presses her closer just as a whimper clambers into his throat, muffled against her lips.

She breaks away at last, resting their foreheads together.

“Tina,” he whispers. Her hands move to his shoulders, her fingers skimming over his collar and bowtie, and his hands glide to her waist.

“Yes,” She kisses his jaw, and his hands tighten at her waist.

“I didn’t really want to ask you to sit with me here. No that’s not—I mean—I did but. Also other days. Every day.” Newt sighs, his nose bumping into hers. He’s relatively certain that he’s not making sense.

“Theseus offered me a job. That’s what I was gonna tell you earlier, when—“ Newt pulls back, searching her eyes.

“He did?”

Tina bites her lip and nods.

“What about New York?”

“I’m staying. I want to.”

“You do.”

“Yes.” Her hands are on his neck now, thumbs skimming the underside of his jaw.

“You’re staying.”

“Yes,” she laughs. It is a beautiful sound, bright and soft, and he decides he’s going to make sure she laughs like that more often.

They kiss again, their breath catching and their hands bumping together in their haste to be closer to each other.

“Newt?” she asks, gasping as his mouth hovers over her ear.

“Mm?” His lips graze her cheekbone, and she shivers against him.

“Did you think I didn’t—“ she lifts her head just a little, and he stares as she wets her lips “—didn’t want to?”

He smoothes a few fingers across her forehead, enthralled with his new ability to touch without pretense. “I thought perhaps…” He watches his fingers map out the delicate valleys and turns of her neck, his brow furrowing. “Perhaps you were not sure if you wanted this. I thought you did.”

“Yes,” she breathes, covering his hand with hers. “I thought maybe you…”

“Me? I’ve—you’re—” he does not have the words, so he kisses her instead, delicately this time. Her hand presses into his, and she sighs as they break apart.

She tugs at his hair as his thumbs trace patterns over her skin. “You coulda kissed me weeks ago.”

“You could’ve kissed _me_ weeks ago,” he protests.

“I did now.”

“Yes, you did.”

Her hands wander over his neck, his shoulders, grasping his collar. “Again?” she whispers hoarsely.

Newt does not respond with words. He doesn’t think she’ll mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments make my day.


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